All The Wrong Moves
by gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: It had been ages since Alfred had gone on a date.


For Tumblr user halfdreamingeverything as their gift for the USUK Summer Exchange. The prompt I used was: Human AU where Alfred and Arthur are both nervous for their first date and they both want it to work out well but it doesn't.

* * *

The librarian was hot.

Alfred sighed, lashes fluttering shut momentarily before snapping back open to frame wide cerulean eyes.

No! The _library_ was hot! Yes, the building! Certainly not the wiry man he'd seen on his way in, with hair like spun gold and the softest pink lips sipping from his thermos-

Alfred took a quaking breath, carding through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to make himself presentable. Caramel strands had been swept and made unkempt by the relentless gusts he'd trudged through to make it in the building- Alfred hadn't known he'd risk a terrible first impression by leaving the house in wrinkled clothes. If he had, he never would've shown face in public like he was doing now.

Not that he usually cared for his appearance, though. He'd been told on numerous occasions just how _effortlessly_ flawless he was, but Alfred found that hard to believe as green eyes met his for just a second, and he was swimming in the perfect peridot pools that belonged to who had to be the world's most alluring librarian.

Actually, the correct term was drowning.

"Dad!"

Alfred lurched forward as small, chubby hands found a grip on his fingers, tugging incessantly with occasional slaps to his arm and cries of frustration.

 _"Dad, dad, dad!"_

Heads turned, including the one that Alfred had been staring at for what seemed like hours.

"Amy, baby, you gotta be quiet in the library-"

With the calm, practiced tone of a father accustomed to raising a time-bomb of a daughter, Alfred gingerly pried the fingers from their grip on his own, offering an apologetic smile to everyone who met his gaze.

Heads craned back down into worn books, and in Alfred's case, swiveled down to meet Amelia's baby blues.

Who could be mad at those?

"The pictures are pretty, could you read it out to me?" She said, as if the request was enough of a reason to start shrieking in a library. Alfred accepted the book, hand ghosting over the stiff, shiny cover before letting it creak open, gesturing for Amelia to take her seat beside him- to which she obliged enthusiastically. Of course she would, she was a child, one much like her father in terms of enthusiasm and lacking the skill to read the atmosphere (or read in general).

"Sure thing, but you gotta listen close, I'm not gonna be loud."

Alfred's eyes fell back to the librarian, who was now sitting upright and stiff, the thermos in his hands lowering to clank against the desk as if the man was uncoiling, getting ready to spring right at them. Perhaps they were too loud? Alfred unconsciously mirrored the action, tensing up until the librarian simply slunk out of his place behind the front desk to duck behind some shelves.

"Hurry!" Amelia fussed, dragging out the 'y' as she slapped her hand against the page he'd opened the book to. He let himself chuckle lightly, reminding himself that she wasn't exactly the patient type.

So, Alfred began to read. It wasn't as entertaining as a story he'd bellow out in the privacy of their home, coupled with closet costumes and breathless chase scenes they'd act out for the fun of it- Nevertheless, Amelia's eyes sparkled as her father whispered along, managing to put ridiculous accents here and there that would make her giggle aloud.

Alfred would pause then, warning her to quiet down.

Quiet wasn't something Alfred would associate with his daughter, which was why he was appalled she wanted to come to the library in the first place. Perhaps it was a new fad in kindergarten, girls reading the same kinds of princess books and discussing them over PB&J's. It would explain the glittered and bedazzled cover of the book Amelia prompted him to read. She wasn't usually one for those types of stories, but Alfred wasn't really complaining.

As if on cue, the librarian emerged from the shelves, moving gracefully towards the ones close to their table. Alfred let his eyes wander off the page towards the curve of the man's ass, words stumbling and tripping until he went to a complete stop. The ever-so-slight sway of those hips sent Alfred's tongue swiping across his lips, moistening them in a fruitless attempt to somehow fend off his lecherous thoughts.

 _Not around Amelia._

"Why'd you stop?"

"Sorry baby, where was I?"

"The school!"

"Right, the school for proper ladies." Alfred drawled on, "A place where you learn how to be a perfectly poised princess."

Amelia's slightly weary puff of an exhale didn't fall on deaf ears.

"She doesn't seem to enjoy what you're reading."

Alfred let his words die on his tongue, gaze tearing from the printed pages and up towards a pair of startlingly close green eyes. The very same pair that had ripped the breath out of his lungs when he'd seen them on his way in.

"Wh- um… huh?" Had been the first words to come tumbling out of his mouth.

A polite smile. "Your daughter- or so I presume- doesn't seem to like the story you're reading out to her."

"Fuck, sorry, was I being too loud?"

Alfred cringed, turning to Amelia with an expression equal mixes of stern and wary, "Amy, never say the F-word okay, daddy was being stupid."

"Okay." Another dragged out 'y'.

The librarian chuckled lightly at that, "You seem to be quite the parent, Mr…?"

"Alfred!" Alfred blurted out, "Alfred Jones, I'm new 'round here."

Not necessarily. He'd just never been to the library before, but Alfred wasn't going to tell him that.

"I figured you were new, I'd remember a face like yours, Mr. Jones." The librarian mused, a smooth, silky English accent prominent on his hushed voice. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, the librarian on shift, may I interest you in a library card? You'll be able to take books home to read if the silence isn't what you're used to for your, er- reading environment."

"Uh…" Was Alfred's intelligent response.

"Sorry if this was a bit of an interruption, we're about to close in a bit and I wasn't sure if you were planning on checking books out or not."

"Right, yeah, of course." Alfred agreed aimlessly. A raise of the librarian, Arthur's, thick brow prompted him to continue, "I'll be at the front desk in a minute."

"Alright," Arthur said with a polite smile. He then turned to Amelia who'd taken to crossing her arms over the desk and swinging her legs impatiently, "And what's your name, miss?"

"Amelia."

"Well, Amelia, you'll find a variety of card decorations to choose from that I think you'd enjoy very much."

Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement, "D'ya have any cool-lookin' ones like a spaceship or something?"

"See for yourself," Arthur said, with an air of mystery Amelia seemed to like. She jumped to her feet with a grin and tugged at Alfred's hand.

"Come on!"

Alfred sighed, deciding against telling her to use her inside voice. Instead, he told himself to breathe as Arthur's pale hands reached for his-

Or rather, the book in them.

"I'll put this back on the shelves." He said, long, surprisingly cold fingers brushing against Alfred's as he gingerly took the book into his hands. "You'll find that maybe your daughter would better appreciate the more _adventurous_ narratives."

"Nn, yeah, uh- I should go, um, look for those."

That was the last thing he managed to choke out before Arthur turned and made his way back to his desk with an excited, giggling Amelia on his trail.

Alfred decided that if reputation weren't a thing, he'd be giggling right along behind her.

* * *

"I'm _sleepy."_

Alfred bit back a frustrated groan, letting the corner of his lips quirk up and set like plastic, "Just a few more minutes honey, then we can go get some ice cream!"

"You said the same thing last time I asked."

"Well, I mean it this time," Alfred muttered dismissively. He watched, waiting until Amelia growled and buried her face into a picture book to let his eyes wander back towards the front desk.

Ah yes, the stars were aligned and so were the tables this time. He drank in the sight of Arthur sitting directly in front of him, not a head to obstruct his view.

And of course, poor Amelia had been made a victim of Alfred's infatuation. It was a Sunday and Arthur's hours were earlier. Amelia had been dragged unceremoniously out of bed and was now glaring knives into her father's head.

He wasn't paying attention well enough to notice.

Arthur had moved to sipping from his drink, a foreign substance in a thermos Alfred could bet was tea. He couldn't possibly be turning Alfred on at the same time, at least not on purpose, but he was doing it anyway- tongue swiping across his lower lip to catch stray droplets of the liquid…

Green eyes traveled up from the monitor of a computer screen to meet Alfred's gaze dead on.

Alfred choked on his inhale. Arthur's eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be mild interest.

So Alfred did the only thing his muddled morning mind was capable of. He feigned innocence, sweaty hands fumbling with his glasses as he shot Arthur a quick smile, pretending he'd been interested in the air around Arthur's head.

He didn't know what he'd expected in response. Arthur just seemed to have a reputation for scowling. Alfred wouldn't know, though. He'd been at the library for weeks now, but he'd never worked up the courage to talk to the man. Maybe a few smiles here and there, a greeting sprinkled in between… Thick brows looked at home in their constant, furrowed position, so Alfred assumed Arthur would roll his eyes at him or just ignore him. Instead, those cheeks pinkened at the eye contact and he shifted to hide behind the screen. There was no sign of a smile, but Alfred felt himself biting back a grin anyway.

That had to mean something, right? From what Alfred would observe, Arthur was never this shy around others. He'd be animated, engage in conversations that people would start with him as he checked their books out, but with Alfred? Eyes averted with head ducked low as he scanned barcodes.

"A few more minutes are over, dad." Amelia droned, "Can we get ice cream now?"

Just when things were starting to move along… Alfred groaned, "Amy, _baby-"_

"You're not even reading a book!" She said, pressing her face against the tabletop in defeat, "Why are we even here?"

Before Alfred could reply with one of the many excuses he had tucked away for times like these, Amelia sat up straight, face scrunched in a mix between childish rage and determination.

"We need to talk."

"Well, what is it, then?" He said, his smile amused as Amelia glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"You're in love with Mr. Librarian, aren't you?"

 _… Oh._

She was a clever one.

"You're turning pink, it's a sign." She added, "And you look at him like he's a pizza."

Alfred chewed on the inside of his cheek. Usually, he'd find it funny at just how straight-faced Amelia was as she compared his infatuation to a pizza; It wasn't hard to do- sit back, laugh and deny everything. She was five, she'd never really figure it out. Sure, Amelia somehow understood the gist of it, but that was as far as it went. Alfred could say anything and she'd believe it.

Which was where the problem lied.

What kind of lesson would he be teaching if Amelia came to know the truth later on? That it was alright to keep things such as these to yourself, not confide and trust in your family? Alfred was new to the parenting thing, but even as inexperienced as he was, he knew not to make a mistake like that.

"Mom's gone, and if you want to marry someone else that's okay." Amelia said, almost gingerly, "You're lonely."

Despite the tender topic, Alfred cracked a wobbly smile, hand reaching out to ruffle Amelia's tousled blonde locks, "Well dang, I really must be if you think so."

"It's not funny dad."

Alfred chuckled, "Yeah, it's not, I'm sorry."

"You gotta do it now." Amelia declared, propping herself up to scan her surroundings. Her head craned back and her eyes caught sight of what she was looking for behind her- it had to be so, judging by the grin stretching across her face as she turned to look at Alfred, "There he is, _go!"_

Alfred's eyes snapped up and like Amelia said, there he was. Books tucked into slender arms and teeth nibbling and toying with a glossy lower lip. Arthur was wearing a white dress shirt that stretched taut over his chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and paired with trousers that hung off his hips just right, the slight curve of his backside almost beckoning to Alfred.

It was then he remembered he had a daughter with him and let himself sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose, "It's not that easy, Amy."

That day had been a fairly busy one in the library, thank the stars. No uncomfortable silence, no one that could drop into their conversation, unlike their first time there. It was something about a movie playing in the later hour. Alfred had hoped he could get Amelia interested in it to buy him more time to ogle the librarian. The movie would end along with Arthur's shift, and Alfred could go home satisfied with his hearty dose of daydream fodder.

"Yes, it is." Amy insisted, "Tell him he's pretty! Talk about books!"

In general, her suggestions were something Alfred wouldn't hesitate to do; slide up behind Arthur with an arm propped on a shelf, maybe smirk a little, talk about his eyes…

That was what made it difficult. Every time he looked into them, he went queasy. His stomach twisted into knots and he forgot English, which he supposed wouldn't get him anywhere with a librarian.

"If you're gonna do it, do it now, I'm never coming back here," Amelia said, the tone of a threat creeping into her words. Alfred would've dismissed it with a wave of his hand if he didn't know for a fact she'd keep to it- kicking and screaming, maybe even biting him if he tried putting her in the car en route to this building ever again.

Which is why he found himself dwindling along behind Arthur as he moved through the shelves, not finding the courage to announce his presence.

"Mr. Kirkland, do you mind handing me that book up there?"

"I'd be delighted to." Alfred heard Arthur reply. The kid couldn't reach the top shelves, but he doubted Arthur could either. The librarian found it daunting as well, as far as Alfred could see. Those thick brows furrowed in mild annoyance at the height. Alfred watched as Arthur stretched onto his toes, fingertips grazing the book before he slumped back down with hands on his hips.

A seething look from Amelia urged Alfred to step forward.

"Let me." He offered with a shy smile. Perhaps he'd been too close to Arthur to begin with, because the librarian gasped, craning his neck back to find Alfred hovering over him.

"Er- Mr. Jones!"

Shit. Alfred backed up, reaching to pick the book off the high shelf and hand it to the kid who'd been watching them almost intently.

Alfred then shot him a look. _Scram._

"Hey, Arthur! I can call you that, right?" he said, smile taut.

"Of course," Arthur replied warmly. It was rather hot in there, which was probably why his cheeks were tinted pink, but Alfred could dream.

"So… uh," A rub to the back of his neck. "How's… it going?"

He could feel Amelia's glare on his back.

"Oh, I'm well, thanks." Arthur replied, "And how's your daughter?"

That was Alfred's fate. To be marked as a father, old merchandise. He groaned internally, deciding on a long sigh, "She's fine, really loves this place, haha, that's why I'm here a lot."

Arthur didn't seem to like that. He pursed his lips, toying with his fingers, eyes downcast before they snapped back up and darted around impatiently.

"Oh, that's why."

Wait-

Alfred's eyes went wide, "No, that's not what I meant, I… "

This wasn't working. Time for a different approach, maybe small talk? Yes, he should talk about how hot it was and pray to god he wouldn't embarrass himself by trying too hard.

"I understand." Arthur said, eyes peering behind Alfred, "I didn't know you liked this place so much, Amelia."

Alfred could feel his heart sinking into his stomach, face aflame as Amelia stepped out from behind his legs. Every breath he took was a prayer that she'd just nod, smile and let Alfred handle his own situations.

But then again, she wouldn't be five years old and patient at the same time. "I hate it here, he makes me come with him."

Arthur's smile melted away.

Never before had Alfred wanted to scream so loud. If he bit his lip any harder, he'd be bleeding. Alfred didn't care how bad of a thought it was, but at that moment, he really wanted to invest in a muzzle.

"He stares at you a lot 'cuz he thinks you're pretty. You should marry him."

Taking that as the last straw, Alfred turned to shoot a piercing glare in his daughter's direction, only to find her looking coy.

"I was tellin' him what you told me!"

Alfred was ready to scoop her into his arms and be gone from that place, never to return. Then possibly hole himself up in his room and live off of stale chips and soda until the embarrassment washed away and he could stand on two feet.

"Amy we're going home." In that span of time, it was like he'd suddenly been hurled back into high school, and Arthur was a popular cheerleader- or someone way out of his league, at least. It took Alfred a moment to grow up again, only to have himself be reduced into a babbling idiot at the sight of those piercing green eyes.

"Alfred."

Though the library was lively enough, Arthur's hushed voice seemed to cut right through him, clear as glass despite the chatter and sounds of flipping pages around him.

"I'm not sure about marriage, but I never turn down a coffee."

Alfred just stared for a moment, his mind finding it difficult to process what Arthur had just said. Gears turned and a light bulb flickered on. Alfred bit back a dopey grin, turning on his heel to reply with a- "Make that a coffee with lunch?"

Mysteriously enough, Arthur already had his number written down to jut into Alfred's hand. Alfred supposed he'd try to do something quirky and memorable- perhaps catch Arthur's hand and give it a kiss, but Arthur was already gone, ears tinged pink as he walked off to hide behind some shelves.

* * *

"Amy, sweetie, you'll be alright, I promise!"

Amelia wouldn't hear it. Baby blues wide and watering like fountains, little arms threw themselves around Alfred's knees and she wailed, loud and clear.

 _"Don't go!"_

A loud clap of thunder punctuated the order unhelpfully. Amelia dug deeper, fingernails scratching against Alfred's cargo shorts, "What if you die!?"

Alfred's apparent rotten luck had decided to extend into the week and make a seemingly harmless summer weekend erupt into a flurry of rain and lightning. He'd agreed on meeting the librarian- or he supposed Arthur would be just _Arthur_ outside the library- in a café a mile or two down. He'd sent his car to be serviced after a few unfortunate incidents with sticky ice cream, so he'd hoped that if he started early, he could walk his way there in his own leisure time.

Life didn't feel like going easy on him. Amelia simply refused to stay at home with her babysitter.

"You never leave me alone in the _rain!"_ she cried out, kicking at the hands of the poor sitter who attempted to peel her away, "I don't want you to go!"

She was hysterical. Alfred wanted to remind her who's fault it was that he had to leave, but that would most likely result in a bite or another savage hit.

"Baby, don't you want dad to be happy? You said so yourself-"

"Oh. You can't be happy with me…"

Amelia knew just how hard to tug at Alfred's heartstrings, just how far to stick her lower lip out and just what to say to make Alfred weak in the knees.

The babysitter just stared at him in disbelief as he dismissed her to trudge back home in the rain. He couldn't refuse Amelia- and he supposed he could get her to sit off to the side and occupy herself with a sandwich and his phone.

His… phone.

Alfred cursed under his breath. It was well past the time Arthur had expected him to be at the café, and Alfred's phone was deceased, charger deemed useless seeing as their cat gnawed the wire. The option of texting Arthur to wait on him was as dead as his phone, leaving him no choice but to sprint like hell through the rain and hope Arthur didn't notice he was late.

Which would've been somewhat do-able if Amelia hadn't declared she'd be coming with him.

Alfred thanked god and his gym membership for giving him the stamina to carry a jacket-covered child whilst running like no tomorrow… in the pouring rain.

And if the gut-wrenching nervousness clamping down on him wasn't enough, a clap of thunder startled him into almost tripping over his own feet and taking Amelia crashing right down with him.

Just peachy.

"Are we there yet?"

If Alfred wasn't a man on a mission, he'd probably collapse behind some bench and just lay there, waiting for a bolt of lightning to put him out of his misery.

"Y- yeah, the café's right there-"

Steering his path to run underneath trees had been the only good thing to happen to him that day. By god's grace, he wasn't as soaking wet as he thought he'd be. Despite the fact that his arms felt like jelly, he managed to push through the door with his shoulder and set Amelia down gingerly.

She giggled, "That was fun."

With a slight, drawn out groan, Alfred stretched his arms over his head, letting them fall limply to his sides as he half-heartedly gestured for Amelia to come with him, "C'mon, let's go meet Artie at the table."

She skipped along behind him, all signs of her previous outburst wiped clean from her face.

Alfred could feel his heart hammering as he approached the only blond he saw, only to find that very man get up, gathering his things and turning around to meet Alfred straight on.

"Arthur-?"

There it was, the prickly side of Arthur he thought didn't exist… or at least prayed he wouldn't see for a long time. He'd spent every minute of his free time dreaming up the different ways their date would go. Of course, this wasn't the first time he'd attempted to bring someone into his life, but he hoped that this time would have potential. He'd even resorted to tossing a few coins into the kitsch wishing well he'd walked by picking Amelia up from her friend's place (he didn't let her see it, of course, Amelia insisted that she collect all Alfred's loose change).

All the while he'd assumed he was the only one making a big deal over their first date. His insides felt like dry cement, and he'd spent so much time mapping out what he'd say to Arthur to make him blush just like he did that day he asked him out.

But looking at normally vibrant green eyes rimmed red, he supposed he wasn't the only one tensed for their date.

"You showed up." Arthur muttered, like he couldn't believe it himself, "I thought you'd-"

"I ran late," Alfred said with a nervous chuckle, ushering Amelia to the table closest to where Arthur had been sitting. She seemed to understand what was expected of her. Amelia sat stiff and polite, hands folded in her lap as she busied herself with looking over the small menu card Alfred knew she couldn't read.

"I see," Arthur said, sounding small as he reclaimed his seat. "A simple call to tell me this would've been nice."

"Sorry, my phone died," Alfred replied with a sigh, pulling a few napkins out of the table-top dispenser to press them against his damp hair. Arthur's gaze lingered on him for a bit before dragging toward Amelia, snapping back up to meet Alfred's eyes with an almost sheepish expression.

"Oh, damn, Arthur I'm sorry, she really wanted to come-"

"No, no it's fine, I know how it can be," Arthur said all-too-quickly, unconsciously mirroring Alfred's act of drying his hair by combing his fingers through his own. The way he carded through- bringing golden strands back against his scalp only to have them bounce into their previously tousled manner- it made Alfred want to know him well enough to have his own hands knotted in that soft, soft hair.

"Sorry about the mess, I had to run to get here. I probably stink right now, god, talk about first impressions."

Alfred punctuated this with a light-humored chuckle and Arthur joined along, peering down at the cup of tea he must've ordered in Alfred's absence.

"Don't sell yourself short, you don't look too bad."

Oh? Alfred raised his eyebrows, "Really now?"

Arthur bit his lip.

Oh, this was rich, too rich, he could feel himself bubbling up and grinning like a loon. Alfred leaned forward, propping his elbow up on the table and resting the side of his face on his palm.

"Seems to me you've been checking out more than books lately, _Mr. Librarian."_

"Are you two gonna kiss?"

Whatever atmosphere Alfred had managed to work up came shattering down.

Amelia watched them innocently.

"Tell me if you do so I can close my eyes." She explained.

Alfred groaned.

"Oh, and I'm hungry, dad."

Alfred bit back a response he knew he'd regret if he let himself say it aloud. _'Hi hungry, I'm dad.'_

Arthur, who'd been leaning towards Alfred intently, sat back in his chair, bringing his cup to his lips for a languid sip, "Right, suppose we should order then."

"Yeah." Alfred agreed half-heartedly. Amelia squealed at the promise of food and swung her legs enthusiastically as Alfred flagged down a waiter.

"Dad, can I have dessert first?" Amelia said, voice a few decibels higher than Alfred would've liked.

"If you're quiet."

He then let himself turn back and give Arthur a nervous laugh, "Kids, am I right?"

Arthur didn't respond, simply let his lips quirk up into a small, polite smile. Alfred mimicked the expression, plucking a few more napkins to dab the droplets of water off his face.

"May I take your order, sir?"

A well-endowed chest was hung not so far away from his face and Alfred choked on his breath at the sudden invasion, averting his eyes to the menu card. He looked up to find Arthur staring at him almost accusingly.

"Uh- um, some coffee would be nice." Alfred stammered, "And a cheeseburger."

"Looks like you had an unfortunate run-in with the rain!" the waitress said with a giggle, gesturing to the damp pile of napkins at his side, "I'll say, the just-out-of-the-rain look is great on you."

Alfred's cheeks went pink as the waitress shot him a saucy wink, turning to Arthur with a smile that was significantly cloudier than the one she'd put on for Alfred, "And you sir?"

"A refill of my tea." Arthur said coldly as he switched from tossing baleful looks in her direction, to looking out the window without an ounce of interest, "And a sandwich as well, please."

"Coming right up." The waitress said with a dry smile. Something about that seemed to rub Arthur the wrong way because his brow knit into a thick, annoyed scribble.

"And try not to linger too long around the attractive customers. The tea took you ages."

It sent her half-storming away from their table with a scoff, and Alfred called meekly after her to add a chocolate muffin to their order. She jotted something down on her notepad and disappeared behind the counter.

Jeez.

Arthur was glaring at the rain now. Alfred turned to Amelia in confusion to find her shaking her head almost solemnly. He must've done something wrong then…

"Arthur?"

"What?" He snapped in response, lips pressing into what Alfred could've sworn was a pout.

"She was just being friendly."

He played it off with a laugh only to find that what he said must've been another mistake. Arthur was practically seething, eyes narrowing as they shot bolts of concentrated electricity up Alfred's spine. He'd hoped and prayed their date would end up well, but it seemed as if the man up above was looking for some entertainment today. It was either that or Alfred discovered his hidden talent of pissing people off.

On the bright side, he revealed something new about the librarian. Arthur Kirkland had a temper.

"Heh," Alfred said when Arthur didn't answer, "At least now I know you think I'm attractive."

If he was being honest, Alfred had expected Arthur to smile and loosen up, maybe even laugh and call him charming. That's how it always went in the movies, but there Arthur was before him, glare as sharp as ever but now coupled with a slight frown of disbelief.

Alfred coughed.

"If I didn't think you were attractive, I wouldn't be here," Arthur said simply. Green eyes then softened, blinked, and a pretty, rose-red bloomed on his cheeks, "You seemed like a good person, so I thought I'd take the leap, that's all."

"I sense a past tense there." Alfred added with a tight chuckle, "Bored of me already?"

Alfred wished he could bite back his words or just go back in time and never learn English in the first place. Any more seconds under the eyes of Arthur Kirkland and he decided he'd dig a hole in the ground and just bury himself in it. Arthur stared at him like a fish out of water- mouth opening and closing lamely like he didn't know what to do with it.

"N- no, that's not what I meant with that!" Arthur began, burying his face in his hands, "I- "

"Here ya go!" It was a different waiter this time. Alfred was glad that he finally had the option to keep his mouth occupied so he wouldn't say any more dumb shit.

He heard a rather loud yet polite- "Thank you!" from where Amelia sat. The waiter gave her a warm smile to go with her chocolate muffin.

"Is she your daughter?" He asked carefully.

Alfred glanced up with a quick smile and a nod.

"You two are very lucky, she seems delightful!"

Amelia grinned her thousand-watt smile, and Alfred found himself going pale, "No, we're not- uh, Amelia is _my_ daughter!"

"Oh, you aren't together, my bad-" the man said curtly, giving him a polite smile before ducking away.

"No, we are together-" Alfred called after him weakly.

He stared down at his burger, feeling Arthur's eyes on him and not wanting to look up and meet his gaze just yet. Alfred realized Arthur was not the type you could just date- you had to be mentally prepared, at least more prepared than Alfred had been for this date.

He didn't know he'd brought his hand up to bite his nails until he saw Arthur's face visibly sour.

"I think I should go-"

"No, wait, stay!" Alfred blurted. It was his turn to bury his face in his hands, "I haven't gone on a date in a long time, I- I'm so sorry if I did anything wrong- "

"It isn't you," Arthur said slowly, fumbling with a napkin. Restless fingers tore at it and he crumpled it in his palm, "I think today was a bad time. Besides, I think I might be coming down with something… you know, from the rain."

"Yeah." Alfred fucked up. It was over- their first date, and Arthur was already lying through his teeth to get away from him. He found himself grinning to fight the self-depreciation climbing into his chest.

"Let me pay," Arthur said carefully, fishing his wallet out of his jacket pocket.

"No, I'll do it, it's the least I can do!"

"Really, Alfred, it's not that much-"

"I insist!" Alfred declared with a light laugh. It took a bit of the weight off his chest to see Arthur's tight expression unwind into a smile. He decided he liked Arthur better that way.

But he was a fool to trust his luck, especially after all it had done to him that day.

Alfred stood up to pat his pockets and found them empty.

He left his wallet at home.

"Heh- "

"Forget it." Arthur snapped, all signs of the smile on his face now wiped to an annoyed scowl. He fumbled with his wallet, tossing a twenty dollar bill onto the table with a frustrated sigh, "Keep the change."

And then he was getting away, the one thing Alfred told himself he wouldn't let him do. Arthur helped himself up to his feet and plucked his jacket off the back of his chair, swinging it over his shoulders before grabbing the umbrella he'd tucked away at his feet (yes, the man had a jacket in the middle of summer, but he was British so Alfred let that slide).

"Wait- !"

Arthur rolled his sandwiches up with a napkin and shoved them in his deep jacket pocket, not giving Alfred a second glance.

 _"Arthur!"_

He didn't know he'd reached out to grab Arthur's wrist until he heard a yelp and found Arthur glaring at him red-faced.

"Bloody hell, are you insane!?"

Alfred flinched, letting his grip go limp as he watched the librarian storm out the doors of the café. He supposed Arthur was just that now- the _librarian,_ nothing more, nothing less.

Arthur's umbrella fluttered in the gusting wind outside and Alfred secretly wished it would tear away from his hands so he'd have one last chance to go be his hero. Perhaps they would laugh over their terrible first date and decide to try once more.

As always, nature seemed adamant in crushing Alfred's dreams. The rain stopped abruptly, giving Arthur a clean getaway.

"You didn't do anything wrong, dad."

"It's okay, baby." Alfred chuckled ruefully as his daughter clung to his arm. "I don't think the angels were happy with me today."

"It was all my fault."

"Nah," he brought Amelia's face to his chest, fingers tangling in her soft blonde curls, "I just don't think it was meant to be."

But like hell if he was going to leave it at that.

* * *

Alfred hoped Arthur would see him as determined rather than "that guy who couldn't take a hint".

Amelia was insistent on following him throughout the unwinding tale of his love life, so Alfred managed to get her to sit on some fairly-distanced bench and watch from afar.

"Dad- dad, he's coming!" She said rather loudly.

"I know," Alfred replied with a roll of his eyes. What he hoped was Arthur's car had parked close by, and with the click of the door, out came the man looking as gorgeous as the day he first saw him. Golden hair shining in the sun- Alfred watched as Arthur combed it back with his fingers, craning his head up to glance in the general direction of the library entrance.

He would find Alfred there with an idiotic smile on his face, waving with the hand that gripped a heart-shaped box.

"Hey there!"

Arthur looked dumbstruck, steps slowing down as Alfred bounded to meet him halfway, thrusting a bouquet of roses into his chest.

A pause.

"You do like roses, right?"

A small smile tilted up the corners of Arthur's lips- then a grin as he took the flowers into his arms, "I didn't think you'd show your face around these parts ever again. You really are insane."

"You think _that's_ insane," Alfred said with a smirk, placing a light, heart-shaped box of chocolates onto the tops of the roses.

"You got me chocolate!?"

"The finest I could find." A small demonstration was in order. He popped open the lid, "Three different types of wrapped-"

The box was _too_ light, and apparently, just a box. Alfred decided right then and there that he wanted to keel over and die.

He turned on his heels to glare at a now sheepish-looking Amelia.

"I didn't know- I thought I just had one or two!"

Alfred shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a frustrated growl, muttering a silent prayer- or more accurately, an accusation- under his breath, "Why can't you let me have nice things-"

"Alfred… go home." He heard Arthur say behind him. He turned to find Arthur burying his smile into the roses.

"It wasn't my fault- uh, Amelia ate them." Alfred explained, "But I swear, they were there-"

"Go home."

Arthur stepped forward, leaning to place a chaste kiss on Alfred's cheek. That was enough to make him see stars- like the universe finally made a full circle and decided to give him a break.

"You'll- I mean, you're gonna call me, right?"

"Yes, I will call you." Arthur promised, rolling his eyes half-heartedly, "I'm not going to have you make poor Amelia sit in the library just so you can stare at me until my shift ends."

"Heh."

"Now leave." Arthur pressed, and Alfred listened, going to take Amelia's hand and walk her to their car. She seemed pretty contrite, and Alfred didn't know how he didn't notice the chocolate stains around her lips. He supposed it didn't matter now… Arthur had smiled, he'd kissed him on the cheek, and he was going to call him. Or, it was more likely that Alfred would call him first on impulse after simmering in his own anxiousness.

That didn't matter either. Someone was going to call the other, and Arthur didn't hate Alfred.

As for their second date, Alfred figured he'd stock up on some suave moves (and most probably end up using library puns and pick-up lines)- maybe even take it a step ahead and exercise his arm for the ole 'round the shoulder trick.

After all, what could go wrong with-

Fuck.

"Amy, did we cut the price tag off those flowers?"

"I don't think so." She replied with a swing of her legs, clicking her seatbelt into the buckle.

 _Fuck._

* * *

 _"I should've known these were Walmart flowers!"_

 _"No, Artie, I was running late, I swear I bought the most expensive bouquet there-"_


End file.
